#29: Before I Go

It's the little untruths
That slip over the edge of
Your sunset and begin
The earliest of my morning

Cup of coffee,

Spilling sideways, streaking

Another little pattern over

The old table

Standing there-

You'd never know how

Easy it is to break

Words down into

Silences that creep

Out of the edge of my 

Nightmares, shimmying their

ghastly way 

Up my throat

And down yours.

I'm afraid I have been

The witch and the face 

The mirror told you

Should stay away.

#28: Baiting Bates

Your words
Seep blood into thirsty parchment,
Opening vein after rotten vein
Of dusty stories;

Isn't your jaw aching
Weighed with the heavy staleness
Of all you forgot before it
Could be spokenshruggedoff?

I remember how familiar my
Hand feels wrapped round your throat.

Your eyes glazed over before they rolled
Back, and your back arched in
Such protest of my presence,
I almost felt remorse.

#27: Insecur(e)ity

I would put out every
Cigarette i've ever
Smoked on every
Inch of the
Disgusting acreage of the
Whitelined agesigned hide-
Away that holds my
Organs in-
Side out,

If it stopped this
Way my heart
Wishes to tear its
Own trajectory through
And out of me.

Would that let you
Believe how I
Disbelieve?

The folds of my brain
Sink with shame
And my eyes grow
Darker everyday,
Love, how can
Your light
Stand all my
Dust?

#25: Sappy New Year

I kill my
Interminable time, wondering
If my small love is enough;
Wide enough to traverse the
Distances
You and I often cannot;

Whether it will
Dull and darken and
Wither and wane
And fade in the face of
So many days.

Will my small love
Outlive greater bigger
Stronger brighter
Lights that threaten
To swallow us whole?

Memories threaten to
Be such sickly reminders
Of what's meant more
To you and I, and I
Wish that

You'd have the same
Fears as mine
So maybe they
Could hesitatingly
Outstretch and meet
For a kiss, halfway.

#26: Happy birthday.

Spiderwebs caught me everytime I
Drowned. It's colder now, though, and
My evenings ceaselessly spiral through
Your letters today.

It's five in the evening and the sky's pitch
Black. Sunsets are early here, always on
The brink of swallowing my tardiness in
Their rush towards the Horizon.

I forgot to wear a sweater today, and the
Gooseflesh on my arm wrote silly sorts
Of letters in words somebody would probably
Understand.

I talked to you and forgot what wishes
Were in order, as per usual. Forgive me.
I remember dates. It's the days that have
Always passed me by.

29/11/2016

#24: To the Friends Love Stole

May we meet
Again under lampshades
Made out of papers
That had once
Been my letters
And your airplanes.

May our eyes meet before
Our tongues scalded the
Insides of our mouths so
Irreparably.

May I beg for your
Forgiveness and
May you have my compassion.
May our fingertips not crackle when they touch.

May your silences rest
In resounding peace, tonight
When I will write about how
Easily I tear into my skin
May you never need to hear me
Scream about pain anymore.

#23: To You.

There's things i think
'd be nice to think of
When i meet you
Again, and stop begrudging
Each lovely day its
Interminable length.

For even as my
Head joins lines on
Maps that are probably
Misremembered bits of rudimentary
Geography, i read my books and
Wonder what you'd have
Thunk of this line.

But though a hundred
Clever little things would want
To be said and read, by
Then, I'd maybe prefer a small
Silence, stretched seamlessly
Around two-by-one midnights.